


I can't undo what's done, but love, my arms are open

by angrysmolthug



Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Confessions, Date Night, Established Relationship, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrysmolthug/pseuds/angrysmolthug
Summary: “Curtis, is that you?!” a voice sounds and Ian’s head snaps up, wide eyes focused on someone behind Mickey. Mickey resists the urge to turn around. Instead, he looks at Ian questioningly.“It is you, I would recognize that pretty red hair anywhere, ” the man says and he’s standing beside their table now, Mickey only has to turn a little to look at him. “You’ve grown up nicely.”The man seems to be somewhere in his mid to late sixties, with wrinkles and grey hair and an expensive suit that probably costs more than what Mickey earns in a month. Ian is staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, mouth slightly open in shock.“Who the fuck are you,” Mickey asks, raising an eyebrow at the man. “And who the fuck is Curtis.”OR: Mickey tries to be romantic and takes Ian to an expensive restaurant, but when they run into an old acquaintance of Ian's, the night takes a turn
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114400
Comments: 2
Kudos: 119





	I can't undo what's done, but love, my arms are open

**Author's Note:**

> This took me longer to write than I expected. Fair warning, this is lots and lots of dialogue.
> 
> Set about four months after their first date. 
> 
> Title paraphrased from the Script's 'Arms Open'
> 
> Can be read as a stand-alone, but I would recommend reading at least part 1 and 2 in the series
> 
> Enjoy!

They don’t go out all that often. Between their jobs, taking care of Yev and dealing with both their families - and their spawn - they just don’t have that much time or energy. Date nights usually consist of pizza, beer and a movie, followed by some amazing, mind-blowing sex.

However, they’ve both taken out some vacation days and Yev’s with his moms. So, after a few threats to Gallaghers and Milkoviches alike to leave them the fuck alone, they’ve finally got some time for themselves. While Mickey would have been content to just spend all that time in the bedroom, he knows what Ian wants. Which means that he will give his boyfriend exactly that. 

Ian stares at him for a solid minute when he walks into the bedroom and sees Mickey standing in front of the mirror. Ian is wearing nothing but a towel and his skin is still damp, water droplets rolling down over defined muscles and Mickey can’t look away from him, either.

“Shit, Mickey,” Ian whispers.

Mickey grins at him, straightening the suit jacket a little. It’s brand new, because he may wear ties and button-ups to work, but the only suit he has is from his wedding to Svetlana. It doesn’t fit anymore. This is a navy suit with a simple white shirt. It’s not tailored or anything, he got it on clearance. Except for it being a little tight around his ass, it fits just right. He’s also not wearing a tie, deciding to keep it at least a little casual. 

“You like it, Firecrotch?” he asks, turning back to the mirror to admire inspect himself once more. 

Ian walks up behind him, resting his hands on Mickey’s hips and hooking his chin over his shoulder. Mickey relaxes into the touch, leaning against Ian and tilting his head back so he can look at his boyfriend. 

“I fucking love it, Mick.” 

“Good, it cost a fucking fortune,” Mickey laughs. 

Ian’s lips are leaving soft kisses on his neck, his arms now encircling Mickey’s waist, holding him close. 

“You want to wait downstairs?” Ian asks, slowly pulling back, and Mickey almost whines at the loss of contact. “Because if you stay here, I don’t think we’ll be leaving the house at all. 

Mickey almost says ‘fine by me’, but no, he put so much effort into this date, he will not give it up. “Yeah, I’ll wait downstairs. Your suit is on the bed, I had Debbie bring it over.”

The suit is a grey three-piece that Mickey knows Ian wore when he was a groomsman at his co-worker’s slash close friend’s wedding. He’s only seen pictures of it, but he knows Ian will look amazing wearing it. 

So Mickey spends the next fifteen minutes waiting impatiently in the kitchen, drinking a beer to loosen himself up a little. He’s nervous, more nervous than he expected to be. He wants tonight to go perfectly, to give Ian the date of his dreams. He knows his boyfriend is a secret romantic - though terrible at hiding that, so it is not really a secret - and he wants to spoil Ian.

When Ian finally comes down the stairs, Mickey forgets how to breathe for a second. The redhead looks absolutely stunning. The pants look amazing on him and the jacket is straining a little under the muscle added since Ian got the suit, but that only turns Mickey on. Ian’s wearing a navy tie that matches Mickey’s suit perfectly. He must have taken it from Mickey’s collection of ties because the one that came with the suit was red.

Ian looks absolutely overjoyed and it makes a warm feeling spread through Mickey’s chest. He made Ian smile like that. 

His boyfriend keeps nagging him the whole way to the restaurant, like an excited kid, wanting to know where he’s going. Mickey stays his ground, refusing to tell Ian. He parks a two-minute walk away, but by the time they’re out of the car, it is obvious where they’re heading.

Ian looks around with wide eyes when they enter the restaurant, with small glances at Mickey in between, like he can’t really believe that Mickey has taken him here. Mickey tells the hostess his name for the reservation and she leads them to a booth. It consists of soft, expensive leather and beautiful woodwork. On the table is a candle, casting a warm light inside of the booth. 

They sink down into their seats, just grinning at each other, not really hearing the hostess tell them someone will be with them shortly. Ian takes off his jacket, probably because it’s just a little too tight around his biceps and shoulders. Mickey almost starts drooling at the sight of white fabric straining over Ian’s muscles and the way the vest accentuates his torso. 

“Shit, Mick,” Ian says a little breathlessly. “I know we aren’t poor like we were as kids, but this place is fucking expensive.”

Mickey smiles, eyes cast down as he says. “I’ve been saving up a little.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s why I cut back on the cigarettes.” 

It’s been a bitch, really, to quit smoking. Well, not really quit, but he’s gone from like five packs a week to just one, maybe two if he’s desperate. Svetlana has been bugging him for years about setting a good example for Yev and he has noticed how he’s out of breath more, so he decided to try. The money he saved went a long way to pay for this. 

Ian is grinning at him, that look in his eyes that makes Mickey’s insides all warm and fuzzy. Fuck. 

Their waitress comes to bring them menu’s and she takes their drink order - some weird fancy beer for Mickey and some sweet virgin cocktail for Ian. Mickey shakes his head as Ian orders, mouthing ‘fag’ at him. Ian just grins and sticks out his tongue. 

“Fuck, Mickey, I love that you’ve taken me here,” Ian says as they look at their menu’s. “I know how far out of your comfort zone you must be right now.”

Mickey shrugs. “Menu’s still mostly in English, there’s relatively normal stuff on it and they’ve got beer, even if it is stupid fucking hipster beer. ”

“Yeah, but still…”

“Ian,” Mickey sighs. “I don’t give a fuck about my comfort zone as long as I’m with you.”

Ian’s facial expression goes all soft for a second, even softer than it had already been. “Sap.” 

Mickey sticks his tongue out at him. 

They order some kind of appetizer-combo-plate - since when is that fancy? - to share and Ian gets something with a French name as his main course, while Mickey just goes for some kind of steak with a fancy sauce and a side of vegetables. 

“You ever been to a place like this before?”

Ian shrugs. “A few times, don’t remember much of it.”

‘I don’t remember much of it’ is code for ’I was manic at the time’, that much Mickey knows by now. They still haven’t really talked about all that shit, not yet. He knows the basics, but anything between the moment Ian left for the army and when he got out of prison is something they’ve kind of left alone. Just like Mickey hasn’t told Ian things like the reason he was in prison, how Yevgeny was conceived or any of the other terrible things from his past. It’s the heavy stuff and they both know it exists and that they should tell each other eventually, but they both seem to want to keep this blissful peace for as long as they can. 

“Used to think Olive Garden was too fancy,” Mickey admits. “I’ve been to nicer restaurants since, nothing like this, just nice.” 

“We would go to Sizzlers whenever we somehow got our hands on some kind of money, we would eat until we got sick, but it didn’t get any nicer than that.” Ian’s expression goes fond as he stares a bit into the distance as if he’s remembering it right now. Those must have been some of the better times for the Gallagher’s. 

Their appetizers arrive and even though it looks like it was put on the plate by a pretentious hipster, it looks like good food and the portions are not as small as Mickey expected. 

They eat and talk and laugh and it reminds Mickey of their first date. They’ve been on a few dates since then, a restaurant here, a bar there. Ian even took him mini-golfing once. Most of the time they are content to just spend their time alone like that. Alone. 

They get through most of the meal without a hitch. No disagreements, Mickey resists being rude when their waitress messes up, Ian resists being rude when the waitress flirts with Mickey - but only barely.

Their plates are almost empty by the time it happens. 

“Curtis, is that you?!” a voice sounds and Ian’s head snaps up, wide eyes focused on someone behind Mickey. Mickey resists the urge to turn around. Instead, he looks at Ian questioningly.

“It is you, I would recognize that pretty red hair anywhere, ” the man says and he’s standing beside their table now, Mickey only has to turn a little to look at him. “You’ve grown up nicely.”

The man seems to be somewhere in his mid to late sixties, with wrinkles and grey hair and an expensive suit that probably costs more than what Mickey earns in a month. Ian is staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, mouth slightly open in shock.

“Who the fuck are you,” Mickey asks, raising an eyebrow at the man. “And who the fuck is Curtis.”

The man turns to him, still smiling widely and Mickey wants to wipe that smile off his face. 

“I see this one’s a bit younger than what you used to go for,” the man says, addressing Ian.

“I-, no, I…” Ian stutters. 

“Again, who the fuck are you?”

Mickey is starting to lose his cool. He just wanted to have a nice dinner with his boyfriend and now this old fuck has shown up and he’s calling Ian some weird name and Ian is in distress. Mickey is ready to fight

“I used to be a client, it’s been a decade or so, though,” the man says and he’s still fucking smiling. 

“Client? What kind of fucking client?”

Ian finally seemed to regain his composure. “Warren, this is my boyfriend, Mickey. Mickey, Warren is an old acquaintance of mine.”

Mickey noticed how he put the emphasis on acquaintance, sending the man - Warren - a look that Mickey couldn't’ quite decipher. 

It’s like some kind of realization hits Warren at the word boyfriend and then he is taking in Mickey appearance more carefully: his kind of cheap suit and the knuckle tattoo’s Mickey has put on full display and the jagged scar above his eyebrow. 

“Ah, of course. Well, it was nice to see you, enjoy your evening,” Warren says and then he hurries off. Mickey hopes it’s because he got scared by the tattoos. 

“Who the fuck was that, Gallagher?”

Ian sighs, staring down at his nearly empty plate. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation here.” 

Mickey is literally seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum, anger coiling in his stomach, but he resists. Not here is better than not at all and they need to talk about shit like this, no matter how much Mickey has the urge to turn everything into a fight. 

“Okay then, let’s pay and get out of here, alright?” 

Ian nods and Mickey already fucking misses the happy Ian from five minutes ago. Nonetheless, he flags down the waiter for the check and five minutes later they’re leaving the fancy restaurant. 

“You want to go back home?”

Ian shrugs, but there is a frown on his face and Mickey can read his mind. They should go home or at least get in the car because they’re not dressed for the cold November weather. Instead, Mickey finds himself suggesting they walk to the park nearby. 

“Yeah, okay,” Ian whispers.

That’s how they find themselves sitting on a shitty park bench late in the evening, both shivering a little, enough space between them to fit another person. 

“Do you want the whole story or just this part?”

Mickey knows neither of them is ready for the whole story. He also believes in give a little, take a little and the more Ian reveals, the more he will have to reveal as well. Just to make it fair. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he says.

The redhead nods, lips pressed tightly together. 

“During my first manic episode I danced at this club and sometimes there were these rich, closeted men. They gave me presents, room service, a roof over my head and money. In return, I slept with them.”

“You were a whore.” 

It doesn’t come out as a question and Mickey grinds his teeth, regretting opening his mouth in the first place. Ian looks at him with those big, sad eyes and Mickey wants to look away. He doesn’t.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Escort’s probably more appropriate. Ain’t judging, man, used to be a pimp.”

“Is that how you ended up in prison?” 

Mickey’s heart skips a beat. This is it. Shit, this is the moment he has been dreading. The question that leads to the reveal of one of his biggest secrets. This is a turning point, the moment where he reveals what kind of man he is. The moment Ian will have to decide if this is the kind of man he wants to be with. He supposes it’s fair, though. An eye for an eye. A secret for a secret. 

“No,” he says, quietly. It feels like something is stuck in his throat. ”It was second degree murder.”

The confession hangs in the air between them and it feels like everything around them is charged with electricity. Ian has gone still beside him. Mickey stares at his hands and he can almost see the blood again. 

“You only got three years?” Ian asks and Mickey almost wants to laugh at how mundane the question is. Not who, not why. Just fucking curiosity how he got out of prison that fast - Mickey had given Ian a timeline, had told him he’d only been in there three years - and it’s so typically _Ian_.

“Four, eligible for parole after three, basically minimum sentence,” he says. “Suppose it was a thank you from the judge for making it so he never has to deal with Terry Milkovich again.”

His hands are shaking now and he’s clenching his teeth. He’s never talked about this before, not with anyone. Not even Iggy or Mandy, because they all pretend it never happened. Everyone present that day has been sworn into secrecy. No one knows how the mighty Terrence Milkovich died.

Ian is reaching out, grabbing his hand. 

“When I danced at the Fairy Tale I would do anything for drugs or money. I sucked so many dicks. I didn’t give a fuck what those old guys did to me or made me do, as long as I got paid or high.”

Mickey looks to his boyfriend. There are tears in Ian's eyes. 

“I came out at Yevgeny’s christening and my dad came at me, so I fought back. By the time Iggy and Colin pulled me off, it was too late for him.”

“I used to think life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, I liked the way I was living my life.” 

“I wish I could say it was only self-defence, but I just lost it. “

“I miss the way I felt when I was manic more often that I would like to admit. Lip and Fiona would probably have me forcibly committed if they knew how often I am one bad decision away from going off my meds.”

“I feel like I should regret it more because he was my dad, but I don’t.”

Silence falls. Ian is still holding Mickey’s hand tightly. A little too tightly, maybe.

“You need to tell me if you ever think of going off your fucking meds,” Mickey says. He’s sniffling a bit and he hadn’t realized he’d been crying, but he can feel the drying tears on his cheeks.

“As long as you tell me if you ever get the urge to beat someone to death again.”

His head snaps up, but Ian is grinning through his tears and Mickey realizes it’s a fucking joke. The shithead is fucking joking around after the shit Mickey’s just told him.

“Fuck, Gallagher, not funny, I’m serious,” he spits.

Ian chuckles and he wraps an arm around Mickey, pulling him closer. “I know, Mick, I know.”

Mickey leans into the touch, turning slightly so he can push his face into the crook of Ian’s neck.

“Poured our fucking hearts out and the world didn’t end,” Ian whispers. 

“You thought it would?”

Ian shrugs. “Honestly, think your shit is more fucked up than mine.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Your dad had it coming, I think. Did the world a favour.”

Mickey has never dared to look at it like that. Deep down he knows Mandy looks at it like that. Iggy, too, maybe, considering what the freedom from their father has brought him. He’s got a job, a wife, a kid. But to Mickey, it had always felt like he wasn’t allowed to look at it like that because he’d done it. He was the one who killed his dad. 

“Thought you’d look at me differently,” he says eventually.

Ian shrugs again. “Don’t know yet, just know I’m not going to give you up because of this. You’re not that man anymore.”

Mickey would love to believe that and maybe if Ian does, he can too. He straightens up a bit so he can look Ian in the eyes, before leaning in and kissing him softly. 

“Fucker ruined our date,” he grumbles. “Just wanted to do something nice for you and he got us into this mess by showing up.” 

“Guess we’ll have to have a do-over,” Ian laughs. “I’ve actually been saving up, too. I wanted to do something for Valentine’s day.”

Mickey snorts. “It’s November.”

Saying it reminds him of how fucking cold he is and he starts to get up, pulling Ian with him, He buries himself back into the redhead’s side as they start walking towards the park’s entrance. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t make as much as you do and rent is expensive, so saving takes longer. My landlord keeps adding more service expenses and all that shit for some reason and ironically I barely use the place.” 

“Easy way to fix that problem,” Mickey says, a little breathlessly. 

Ian stops walking abruptly. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Maybe.”

“You want me to move in?”

Mickey smiles shyly, reaching out to lay a hand on Ian’s cheek while the other stays wrapped around his waist. “Like you said, you’re practically living with us already. You don’t have to decide now, we can wait until you can end your lease.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you. And Yev.”

Mickey grins widely. “Didn’t think that’s how this conversation would end.” 

“I suppose it proves that nothing can come between us,” Ian says and then he’s leaning in, kissing Mickey softly before dragging him along again, towards the car.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this fic! 
> 
> Feel free to check me out on Tumblr at angry-smol-thug.
> 
> Always open to ideas and requests for new parts in this series! Can be anything, from the progress in their relationship to cute bonding with the kid to just straight up smut, haha.


End file.
